


Leopard Print

by claitynroberts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Leopard Print, Vacation, beach, swimsuit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 07:09:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15359025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claitynroberts/pseuds/claitynroberts
Summary: Sam, Dean, and y/n finally get a much needed vacation. What happens when Sam is gon for the day, leaving y/n and Dean alone at the beach house?





	Leopard Print

**Author's Note:**

> Written for #SPNgenreBingo challenge and canadianspnhunter’s #HotSummerNights 500 follower celebration challenge
> 
> Square Filled: Vacation
> 
> #HotSummerNights Challenge Prompt: Leopard Print

If Dean was anything, it was an opportunist; and when opportunity came knocking, he answered the damn door. Hell, if he, Sam, and y/n hadn’t saved billionaire CEO Jonathan Thomas from a djinn attack in Kentucky a few weeks ago, they wouldn’t be where they are now; sitting pretty at some private beach house miles away from civilization.

Mr. Thomas had offered it to them for a week, all expenses paid, as recompense for helping get his sorry ass out of the precarious situation he’d inadvertently become a part of. At the time he’d offered them the use of the mansion on the coast, the three hunters had been swamped with case after case, vacation being the furthest thing from their minds. With the strange but welcoming respite the lull in cases brought with it, the three hunters had some extra time on their hands and were already half-way to the promised excursion. One phone call to Mr. Thomas was all it took for Dean to gather the gang and head south.

Now, it was day three of their first vacation in...well, ever. He, Sam, and y/n quickly found and laid claim to their own corners of the house and the sprawling expanse of white sand outside, coming together for meals and the relaxing banter the cool beach evenings offered. 

This morning Sam had decided to drive into town, eager to check out the local sites, museums, and libraries the cultural destination had to offer. Y/n had retired to the beach lining the ocean just in front of the large house, chair, cooler, and umbrella at the ready.

Dean had been cleaning up his dishes from lunch when he glanced out the window to see Y/n’s sun hat peeking over the back of her beach chair, her purple string bikini top hanging from the backrest and waving in the ocean breeze like a flag. As he rinsed the plate and dried his hands on the green dish towel, he smirked, a rather devious plan coming to mind. And, well, opportunity just happened to be his middle name.

He’d had a thing for y/n for a while now, but nothing had ever come of it besides some hardcore flirting and drunken make-out sessions in the dark recesses of the ratty motel rooms they frequented. Today, something just might change. Maybe.

Softly, he padded into his room and began to don the outfit he’d picked up for vacation before they left Lebanon. Moments later, after some tugging, jumping, and adjusting of the pinching fabric, he was ready. Looking in the mirror, he smirked to himself before leaving his room to walk across the large living area. As Dean stepped through the French doors and onto the back deck he was instantly met with the warm, humid air and the roar of the ocean waves. As quickly as the sand would let him, he trudged through the stark white powder, plopping down in the extra beach chair beside y/n as he fished a beer out of her cooler.

Devilishly he looked over at her as he took in her body. Her long bronzed legs were stretched out in front of her, the supple skin soaking up as many of the sun's rays as possible. Her full, rounded hips were being hugged by the dainty strings of her bikini bottoms, the modesty ending there. The golden skin of her stomach gave way to the supple flesh of her bosom, full rounded breasts basking happily in the summer sunshine. The areolas were a dark dusty rose and her nipples had become pebbled and erect from the cool ocean breeze. Shadows from the umbrella fell across her collarbones, traveling the length of her graceful neck to fall across her face. Y/n held a romance novel open in her lap as she continued her reading, never once taking in Dean’s presence.

Clearing his throat he caught her attention as a perfect eyebrow rose over her dark sunglasses and she turned her head in his direction. “Can I help you?” She asked in a sweetly, sarcastic tone. 

Taking in his incredibly ridiculous getup she stifled a laugh by covering her mouth daintily with her hand. Dean was wearing a white Hawaiian-print button down with multi-colored hibiscus flowers and dark green foliage. The shirt wouldn’t have been completely awful had he not paired it with cutoff jorts, velcro sandals, and a floppy blue fishing hat. To make the scene even more comical, he completed his look with his dark ray-bans and a thick smearing of sunscreen on his nose, making him look like every stereotypical male tourist from every bad movie ever.

“Don’t you think you ought to be wearing a little, I dunno, more?” He asked making a vague motion over his own chest to communicate her lack of coverage.

“Oh my god, you’re right!” She shrieked as she looked down at her topless torso, feigning embarrassment by covering herself with her book. “Have you seen my top? I think someone stole it!” Jokingly she looked around as if it had merely fallen off her body.

“I-I think it’s on the b—.”

“I know exactly where it’s at, Dean, because I put it there.” She glowered at him in mock anger as she attempted to hold back a smirk. “It’s a private beach, and I intend to take full advantage of it.” Y/n dropped her book back down and went back to reading.

Dean attempted to come up with a line, something to throw back at her, but, instead, his mouth ended up gaping like a fish. Looking over at him, his stunned reaction caused y/n to giggle, a full-on body-wracking expression of emotion. “Why Dean, I do believe you’re speechless.” She giggled again and took a long pull of her beer.

Silently Dean stood up and began undressing. First to go were the awful dad-variety sandals, then he threw his gaudy fishing hat into the seat he had vacated. Working to undo the handful of buttons at the bottom of his shirt, he let the light fabric slide from his broad shoulders, revealing the pale, soft but muscled form below. He had a perpetual farmer’s tan from always wearing his t-shirts and flannels, resulting in just his forearms, neck, and face being a deep sun kissed bronze. 

“What’re you doing?” Y/n asked, all hint of teasing gone, curiosity taking its place.

“I just thought I’d go for a swim instead of sitting here being insulted by you.” He grinned at her as his hands moved toward the fly of his jorts. 

“Oh really, now?” She asked, a bit of mirth returning to her voice as his hands stilled their progress. “Do you know how much sand you’ll get in your cracks and crevices just from being out there? Furthermore, do you understand how hard it is to remove it all? You’d be better off taking a dip in the pool.”

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before a wide grin split his face. “Well maybe you can help me take care of that later, but right now, I’m going to go swim in the ocean. It’s our first vacation in years. I’m going to enjoy this.” He smiled at her as he made quick work of his fly and dropped the denim abomination to the sand.

Y/n dropped her book as she used both hands to try and hold in the laugh that threatened to rip out of her chest at the sight of Dean in his swimwear. “You like?” He asked, holding his arms out to his sides so she could take in the full sight.

Beneath Dean’s cutoff shorts hid a little surprise he had picked up when they stopped at the head-shop in town to pick up souvenirs from their trip. Clinging to his narrow hips was a small, skimpy pair of swim briefs. Two narrow strips of leopard print fabric hugged the lines of his hips to drop down where a triangular scrap of similarly printed fabric barely covered his manhood. His impressive member was straining against the form fitting material, leaving nothing to the imagination. Grinning he looked down at y/n as he began to step backwards toward the water line. “Why y/n, I do believe you’re speechless,” he said nonchalantly, throwing her words back at her as he chuckled, turning around and slowly jogging to the water.

This time y/n couldn’t hold it in, a loud burst of laughter escaping from her chest as she took in the sight in front of her. Not only did the swimwear barely cover his junk, but in the back it didn’t hide a lick of flesh. Instead, the two straps of leopard material that were hugging his narrow hips simply met at the base of his spine and disappeared between his cheeks, leaving them fully exposed. The flesh and muscle simultaneously bouncing and flexing with the effort of his jog across the sand.

While she didn’t expect the view, she couldn’t deny the fact that it was a helluva nice one. So nice, in fact, she felt a pool of slick gathering at the entrance of her core. “What I would do to that man,” she mumbled to herself as she picked up her book and readjusted her surroundings. 

Glancing up she noticed Dean had stopped and looked over his shoulder throwing her a smirk and a wink that set every girl’s knees to buckling. “You chicken, or do you just like the view?” He called across the expanse of sand as he turned toward her and began to flex his muscles in different poses much like a bodybuilder.

Pursing her lips she shook her head at him as he egged her on. Having had enough of his taunting, she tossed her book down and took off at a sprint, her tits bouncing with the movement and thoroughly distracting Dean long enough for her to launch herself at him. His hands came up to catch her under the ass, his fingers dimpling the soft flesh where her thighs met her cheeks. She looped her arms around his neck for support, her breasts pushing flush against his own bare chest as she leaned toward him.

“I’m not chicken,” she said matter of factly. “And I guess the view was alright.” She finished with a smirk.

“Just ‘alright’, huh?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I mean you—.” She didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence because Dean had effectively shut her up by crushing his mouth to hers. She opened up for the kiss, a soft moan escaping her parted lips as Dean pushed his tongue forward to twist and twine with hers. Mirroring his actions, y/n deepened the kiss before pulling back, catching Dean’s lip in the process and nipping at it gently.

“How was that?” He asked breathlessly, his dark green, lust blown eyes meeting her y/ec ones as they each looked to the other for confirmation of what had just transpired between them.

“I’m not sure. Maybe we should try again,” y/n replied on a heaved exhale, attempting to catch her own breath.

“Good idea.” He nodded.

They each dove at the other’s mouth for the second, perfect kiss in a long series of a lifetime’s worth of kisses. The sun, salt, and sand falling away until it left just the two of them clutching at each other with a desperation running deeper and farther than any ocean current.


End file.
